


tales across time and songs across space

by kagehana_tsukio



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen, Poetry, mostly poetry but what comes is what comes I suppose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26265904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagehana_tsukio/pseuds/kagehana_tsukio
Summary: A collection of prompted and unprompted ficlets and poetry relating to Doctor Who





	1. (7 & Mel) post-regenerative differences

Mel watched as the Doctor wandered around the console, tapping a pair of spoons he'd taken out from his still ridiculously large pockets from a less ridiculously coloured coat against his leg as he continued to lose himself in his thoughts. Silently. 

_'My doctor wouldn't do that,'_ She thought, _'much less silently.'_

But that was the thing wasn't it. He was her Doctor. Just...different. Not good different or bad different. Just, different. 

Well, and more quiet, her eardrums thanked for a moment. (Although, she knew, she already missed the sound of his voice. Just one more thing she'd get used to from now on.)


	2. romana + illuminate

Oh, how she remembered traveling with him. Watching life and planets and lighting the stars with their presence as they travelled far, far away from Gallifrey. And she took it back with her - little pieces of starlight, to illuminate the path she would take to guide their home out of the darkness they'd imposed on themselves, and claimed was their domain.


	3. nine + memory

Sometimes,  
they wished their memory was both an infallible thing,  
and wished they could wipe it as clean as it often was   
in their past.

To forget their last glance of their planet   
slowly consumed by flames and coated in conflict   
they were too haughty to ever imagine.

While also wanting to never forget:  
the way its setting suns would shine,  
off the silver trees scattered across the red earth;   
the alleys they would lose themselves in as children,   
chasing a joy they would be chasing  
for the rest of their lives.

But time carries on   
and time weathers,   
even for a time lord   
who can barely remember their own beginnings. 

For now though, they count lives  
and count their dreams. 

(All their dreams are memories anyway.)


End file.
